Camp Cowen
by FireDemonOfShadows
Summary: AU. Sora thought his mom was just being hopeful when she made him join a religious group after breaking down in school. But that was before he knew about Camp Cowen. Pairing will eventually be RikuSora, LeonCloud, AxelRoxas. Better summary inside.
1. Prologue: The Breakdown

AN: Will I ever finish a Kingdom Hearts story if I keep writing new ones? Probably not, but that doesn't stop me from doing it! Look, I know the whole 'camp' thing has been done too many times to count, but bear with me, okay?

Summary: Sora thought his mother was just being hopeful when she made him join a religious group after breaking down in school. That was before he knew about Camp Cowen, the home of Sergeant Stone and The Great Gardener. There, he meets three wonderful people who help him find his sanity again. But, as the saying goes, things always get worse before they get better. Riku/Sora, Cloud/Sora, Leon/Sora, Leon/Cloud, Axel/Roxas.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, KH: COM, Kingdom Hearts II, or any of the Final Fantasy games. _sob_

FDOS: Has anyone ever heard of Young Life? It's an organization of Christian groups across the country. But it isn't just about religion, ya know? Oh, well, you'll see what I mean when you read….

* * *

_Prologue: The Breakdown_

Sora Kazutaki, sophomore at Lincoln High in the bustling city of Pittsburgh, considered himself to be sort of a loner. It wasn't that he didn't like to talk. He could prattle on for days about absolutely nothing and wouldn't even notice that the person listening to him had left hours earlier. The problem was simple, really. People just didn't know how to deal with him. There was something in his character that overwhelmed his parents, his teachers, and his peers. It was like… No one can be that happy, can they? Was this boy so content with life that nothing fazed him? After around two months, the school got tired of wondering. They just labeled him as a freak and was done with it. But he wasn't a loner and he wasn't a freak. He had friends all over town, from different cliques and social statuses. And one of these friends (his _best _friend, in fact) happened to be related to him.

Roxas Kazutaki was more widely accepted by the community than his strange cousin, despite his subdued and quiet nature. He played sports and could hold his own in a fight, which earned him the respect of most of male student body, but he was also a brilliant artist and singer, thus putting his name near the top of the most wanted list posted on the girls' bathroom wall. The teachers adored him for his high marks and polite behavior. Student council was eternally grateful to him for helping with school projects. His neighbors couldn't tell their coworkers enough about how delightful he was for walking their dogs and house sitting when they went on vacations. His parents loved him to death, sure that they must have done something right for God to bless them with such a calm and cooperative son. Perfect, that's what he was. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

_What a bunch of bullshit._

It never really crossed Sora's mind before that he might be just a little bit jealous of Roxas. He had thought nothing but good of the boy, taking into consideration that he hung out with Sora no matter how popular he got. But standing there in the corner of the commons area, watching as all those girls threw themselves at his blond cousin and all those boys asked for advice about some game or another, he was most definitely _pissed. _Since he was a child, Sora had tried so hard to gain the interest of the core crowd, and Roxas (who moved to the district three _months_ ago) now had the whole school bowing at his feet!

"I'm leaving."

Roxas blinked at the bluntness of the statement, his eyes puzzled as he stared at Sora.

"Why?" he asked in confusion, shaking off his admirers as he followed the brunet to the door. "Did someone say something? Are you not having a good time?"

"A good time?" Sora repeated incredulously, spinning on his heel. "How the _hell _can I have a good time when you're around?! NO ONE EVEN KNOWS I'M HERE!"

Silence reverberated throughout the decorated room, every annoyed or startled face turned to look at him. How dare he ruin their dance like this?

"Oh, now you see me!" Sora cried heatedly, his blue orbs narrowed into slits. "Is this all it takes? Huh! All I have to do is scream?"

Several teacher began to push past the students to get to him. But Sora wasn't done yet.

"The only reason I act so happy is because I want you all to like me! But _no, _being that nice is obviously some kind of crime! I make almost exactly the same grades as Roxas, I can play as hard as he can, I can't draw, but I can write, my singing voice is just as good, and I try to help out as much as he does! Everything, everything he's done, I can do it too! The only difference between us is that I hide my problems with smiles, whereas he hides them by not talking! Do you people realize how many words he speaks in a week? You're lucky to get enough for a paragraph! The only reason you're so fascinated by him is because he's a mystery to you! You know _nothing _about him! And while we're on the subject… YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME!"

Mrs. Petrov, Sora's math teacher, finally made it over to him and let out an irritated sigh. She knew that the boy would be trouble someday. His father's blood had to show through eventually.

"Mr. Kazutaki, stop whining like a five-year-old! Just because you have some kind of altercation with your cousin, doesn't mean you should take it out on the student body," she snapped condescendingly, opening the door for him. "If there is a problem, you may speak to the counselor about it tomorrow."

Sora froze, as if her words had wrapped him in a sheet of ice. He never wanted to talk to a counselor again. _Never._

"Go to hell, you bitch! I don't need a fucking counselor!"

* * *

"Sora, we need to talk."

Ugh, he hated when his mother said those words. The last time they'd had a 'talk', he ended up in a psychologist's office. That hadn't been pretty.

"Your behavior is really starting to get out of hand, dear, and frankly… I don't know what to do."

Oh, no. Here comes the guilt trip.

"Is it because I'm not around enough? You know I'd rather stay home with you than work, don't you, honey?"

Sora nodded his head automatically, reciting the conversation in his head as she went on.

"But there's no way I can cut back on my hours. Your father was the one who brought in the most money, and now that he's gone… Oh, baby, I'm trying here! Please, don't think I don't love you, because I do!"

"I know you love me, mom," the brunet mumbled mindlessly, repeating what he said every time the subject came up. "It doesn't have anything to do with you."

Mrs. Kazutaki stared at her son, worrying her bottom lip. Her hand slipped into the pockets of her black work pants, pulling out a folded brochure and setting it on the kitchen counter.

"There's this group that meets every Thursday…" she started cautiously, flipping through the pamphlet. "And they're taking the kids to a weekend camp on the seventeenth."

Sora felt extremely girly when doing it, but he threw his hip to the side a little and crossed his arms over his chest. Can't forget the raised eyebrow either.

"Yeah, so?"

His mother shifted her feet, holding out the booklet.

"I want you to go."

"And what kind of group is it?" he asked suspiciously, unfolding the paper and skimming through the words. "A Christian group! Mooom!"

"I want you to go," she said again, pointing at a duff bag on the floor. "Which means that you're going. And so is your cousin."

…

"I HATE YOU!"

* * *

AN: Sora's kind of a brat… Ah, well, he gets better. Just remember that his dad was a bastard. Anyways… That was just the prologue, but how do you like it? 


	2. Chapter 1: Beauty and the Cloud?

AN: Hey, everybody!

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, KH: COM, Kingdom Hearts II, or any of the Final Fantasy games.

Well, let's get on with it, shall we?

* * *

_Chapter 1: The Beauty and the…Cloud?_

Sora couldn't believe he agreed to this. But after hours of arguing with his mother, he had finally given in. And so, here he was… Standing outside an old brick schoolhouse that had shut down long ago and reopened as a community center. This was where he was supposed to spend every Thursday for the rest of the school year? Just fucking great…

"Hello, new recruit!" the melodic voice of a female suddenly assaulted his ears, making him jump nearly three feet. "My name's Kairi! What's yours?"

He spun in the direction the voice was coming from, and standing there in the side doorway was the most stunning woman he had ever seen. She couldn't be more than twenty-five, he decided, noticing her youthful features and the local university hoodie she was wearing. One of her petite hands was in the front pocket of her dark blue jeans, the other splayed over a jutting hip. Her skin was a cream color, which slightly contrasted with her long auburn hair, but greatly complimented her sparkling blue eyes. She wasn't tall for her age, her body was curvy and thin, and Sora resisted the urge to stare at her large and perfectly shaped breasts. Don't get him wrong, he didn't want to 'check her out'. They were just… Very hard not to notice.

"…Sora," he managed to choke out, after realizing he'd been silent for too long. "Sora Kazutaki. Nice to, uh, meet you."

_Don't you mean, nice to undress you with my eyes?_

_Shut up! She'd have to be Helen of Troy kind of beautiful to get me bothered!_

_Then why were you staring at her?_

_She just threw me off guard… I mean, religious group leaders don't generally look like that._

_That's because if they did, no one would be interested in religion anymore. Know what I mean?_

_Hell, yeah, I know what you mean. Now… Get out of my head!_

_It's not my fault you're a schizo. Don't take it out on me._

Sora sighed heavily, pointedly ignoring the voice as he met gazes with Kairi again. Her eyebrows were drawn together in worry, and she had taken a step closer to him.

"Are you okay?" she questioned softly, pressing the hand that had been in her pocket to his forehead. "You were muttering to yourself."

_You have to be more careful about that, you know. Your mother's gonna find out if you keep speaking aloud._

_I said shut up, Skye!_

"I'm fine, just tired," Sora assured her, batting the hand away. "When's this thing start?"

Kairi watched him for a moment, still not entirely convinced that everything was right. But she shook the thought off and smiled, launching into her welcome speech.

"I know the pamphlet says seven o'clock, but the doors don't usually open until around eight. We have to make sure everything is set up and rehearse one last time. Things go a lot smoother that way. The kids just hang back here and talk, and some even play on the merry-go-round at the old playground in front. People will start showing up in about ten minutes."

Sora tipped his head to let her know he'd heard her, then started off toward the front of the building. Maybe he could spin on the merry-go-round before the others came. Just a little. Because if anyone saw him, his rough image he'd gained at the dance would go kaput. The boy sat down in the middle of the merry-go-round, falling back to peer at the dark sky. It was going to rain soon and the black clouds above were calling him.

"Sweet darkness, come take me away," he began to recite a poem he'd heard once. "I no longer wish to stay. You wait patiently on my sill. You'll never leave until I fill this void that's deep inside of me. Till then, you'll never let me be."

The sound of crunching grass floated over to him and he fell silent, jerking upward to see who was approaching.

"Sounds like the poem's about suicide," a young man said quietly, taking a seat at the edge of the merry-go-round.

…_Are all the leaders hot?_

After staring at dark clouds for so long, this man startled him. He was the perfect embodiment of what a cloud was supposed to look like. But not the storm clouds… The kind you see on a sunny day. His hair was light blonde and styled similar to Sora's (sticking up in all directions) and he was paler than an islander should be. He practically towered over the younger boy, probably around the age of twenty-two, and donned baggy black pants with several pockets and a gray, faded t-shirt that read 'Stop staring at my shirt!'. A half-smile curved at his thin, pink lips, despite the morbid subject of his question. Sora guessed that he was the quiet, yet kind, intimidating, yet gentle type. The type that if you got a full genuine smile from him, you'd be floating on a (you guessed it) cloud for the rest of the day. Sora bit his lip and blinked. _What's the question again?_

"Um, your name is Sora, right?" the blond asked hesitantly, his expression suddenly concerned. "Please, tell me what the poem was about."

"_Is _about," Sora huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why do people always use past tense when they're talking about literature? The whole point of writing a book or a poem is so that the author's words live forever. A story begins again and again with each person that reads it. So, you see, stories never end… Thus, they can never be spoken of in the past tense."

The man beside him remained speechless for nearly a minute, a thoughtful look settled across his face.

"That has to be one of the weirdest things I've ever heard. Beautiful theory… But you're stalling."

Sora's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. He had hoped his little lecture would make the guy think himself into circles and given him time to run away. But _nooooo_, Mr. Blondie just went and figured out his complicated plan. Why was it that whenever Sora _wanted _a blonde to act dumb, they never did?!

"Yes," the boy finally replied to the earlier query, lying back down. "You gonna get all 'are you depressed?' and 'do you wanna talk about it?' with me?"

"No," he answered simply, mimicking Sora's position. "I'm gonna get all 'could you tell me the rest of it?' with you."

Sora blinked in confusion once more. What was with this guy? Wasn't he supposed to be a religious leader that wanted to talk about feelings and crap like that?

"O-okay… Everyday I try to hide, but you're always by my side, tempting me to come with you. There's nothing left that I can do. Sweet darkness, waiting on the sill, this time it's not against my will. Take me away, take me away. In the darkness, I wish to stay."

He waited for a response, his stomach fluttering. Would this man laugh at one of his favorite poems? Wait… _Why do I care what he thinks?_

"Hmm… It's good. Sounds like some angsty teenager that just broke up with someone wrote it, but still alright."

_He did not just say my favorite poem is 'alright'._

_I think he did._

_That's it, I don't care how cute he is! No one messes with my poem!_

_Rawr! _

_What the hell was that?_

_Encouragement to seek your revenge? I don't know, I was caught up in the moment!_

…_Whatever._

"Oh, yeah? You got a better poem?" Sora challenged, poking the guy in the chest. "Let's hear it!"

Nothing for a moment, and then…

"Where have all the thinkers gone? Where are all the writers and poets? Where have all the thinkers gone? Have we given up our dreams to the twisted, unfair means of the 'others'? The blind ones? The dull and sullen blind ones, who can't understand our dedication to the written word? We're not different. We're not damaged. Why do they assume we are? Have we given evidence to some tragic circumstance of a dark and troubled past? Have they no considerance? Must we have a shadowed life to pen out rhymes and structured lines? What they fail to recognize is this: Without these poems to heal our souls, we become what they see us as. The _Evil _and _Unjust. _But now, I ask… What have _they _become to _us_?"

As the light and experianced voice faded, silence followed in it's path. Because Sora had absolutely no clue what to say. Who on Earth had written that poem? He couldn't even begin to explain how he was feeling… It was like, those words expressed every view he had of people that weren't like him. He had to ask-

"Who wrote that poem?" Sora inwardly winced at how breathy he sounded.

A grin broke out on the man's face, and Sora was most definitely right about the whole floating thing.

"Cloud Strife. And you happen to be staring in a very obvious way at him."

_Damn. He burned you._

"Welcome to the real world, kid. Just because I help run a religious group, doesn't mean I haven't gone through the same shit you have."

_He did… And I think I like it._

_

* * *

_AN: Hey, Sora's still a hormonal teenager. He's bound to have thoughts. So stop lookin' at me like that! Reviews, please? 


	3. Chapter 2: Who Needs Words?

AN: Haven't been here in awhile…

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, KH: COM, Kingdom Hearts II, or any of the Final Fantasy games.

This is Roxas's chapter! We get to see his side of the story. Yay!

* * *

_Chapter 2: Who Needs Words?_

Roxas didn't really understand the need for words. He could get his intentions across with hand gestures and facial expressions just fine, thank you. And, of course, there were pictures. Like the hundreds of pictures hung on almost every wall in the Kazutaki household. The colorful and inspiring photographs lining the master wing halls were Mr. Kazutaki's work, while the left wing made you dizzy with all the mind-boggling abstract paintings by Mrs. Kazutaki. Most people, however, tended to avoid the right wing in any way possible. Dark creatures that looked somewhat like overgrown ants stared out at you with their glowing yellow eyes. A strange castle towered ominously, casting its shadow by the full moon. Trains rushed past each other at a busy station, paying no mind to a peculiar blue train topped with a magican's hat that seemed to be waiting for someone. But the most disturbing was the last…

A lone brown-haired boy, gazing with pleading sapphire eyes as he tries to escape his glass prison. One single tear runs down his pale cheek and his lip is jutted in a quivering pout. No one can stand to look at this painting for too long. And if they do, Mrs. Kazutaki has to escort them away when they start to cry or breakdown. There's just something about the child that makes your heart bleed. Roxas knew why everyone went ballistic over this painting. Because they recognize him.

They know that the little boy is Sora.

"Honey?" Mrs. Kazutaki whispered, cracking open the bedroom door.

Roxas peeked out from under his blanket, drawing an arm across his face to hide the telltale trail of tears.

"Yeah, mom?"

She shifted uncomfortably, stepping into her son's room. Which was something she hadn't done since he turned thirteen.

"Well… You seemed a bit upset when you came home."

Roxas had fled about two minutes after Sora, sprinting as fast as he could to his house. He just couldn't take those voices, everyone asking him what his cousin's deal was. He had wanted to scream at them, wanted them to stop blaming Sora, because _he _was the deal. It was _his _fault that the little brunet went postal and almost ruined the dance. Why couldn't they understand that?!

"I screwed him over again," he mumbled thickly, his throat still tight from crying. "We never should have moved here. I'm just making things worse."

Mrs. Kazutaki nearly rolled her eyes, but stopped herself. The last time they'd had a 'Sora' conversation, it ended with a very pissed off son and a door slamming in her face. Since then, she knew to never roll her eyes when they were dicussing her nephew.

"Dear," she paused to sigh, "You know that Sora's always had troubles. There is absolutely nothing you could've done that would make him feel worse than not having you here at all."

Roxas seemed to consider her words for a moment… And then slammed the door on her, as he'd done countless times before.

"You don't know the first thing about what Sora would think! You HATE him! And I hate you!"

She sighed again, running her hands through her blonde hair in frustration. He was getting too out of hand. Help, help, help… Where was that brochere she'd picked up from church?

Roxas listened as his mother footsteps faded, then bounced back onto his bed, and grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

"Namine?" he murmured cautiously, hoping it wasn't her parents.

"Roxas! Are you okay?"

"I need someone to ramble to."

"I'm listening," Namine said softly and he heard the rustle of bed sheets.

"Did I wake you up?"

"No, I was just getting ready to go to bed. Now… Is this about the dance?"

Roxas hugged his knees and stared at the newest edition to his art collection.

"I feel so guilty, Nami. He… He'd be better off without me."

"Oh, no, Roxas, you didn't…" Namine gasped as she remembered the last time he'd said those words.

"Let's just say… I'm out of red paint."

* * *

"I'm not going."

Mrs. Kazutaki glared at her son, tapping her foot impatiently.

"You are," she snapped, pointing at the red building. "Or I'll drag you."

Roxas's eyes landed upon a certain flushed brunet sitting beside some stranger on the merry-go-round in the back yard. The tall guy had his head bent close to Sora and was obviously saying something that embarrassed him.

"See ya," he muttered distractedly to his mother, starting off toward his cousin.

Was the blond _flirting _with Sora? Because it certainly looked like it to Roxas. Don't get him wrong, he didn't have any incest-involved thoughts about his cousin. But he was still fairly protective of him and having someone that close to Sora made his blood boil. Another thing that Roxas did to make the boy's life miserable was getting in the way of the few rare people that actually wanted to be his friend. Unintentionally, of course. He just couldn't help it.

"Sora!" he said a bit more harshly than he'd intended, causing the tall _man _(he noticed with a growl) to jerk away from Sora. "What are you doing?"

Roxas almost flinched as he was pinned by the most hateful glare his cousin had ever directed at him. Apparently, little Sora hadn't wanted the handsome man who was now anxiously shuffling his feet to back away. In fact, if Roxas would have waited a second longer to interupt, the small boy would have delivered the line that had been forming in his head while he was blushing and possibly might have landed a date with a college student. But _no, _big cousin always had to interfer when things were getting good for him. Hmph.

"Socializing," Sora replied shortly, his arms crossed over his chest defiantly. "Something you've obviously never heard of."

Roxas supposed he deserved that, but he still didn't like it when the stranger smirked with something akin to satisfaction. Sleazy jerk!

"I need to talk to you, Sora," Roxas grinded out through clenched teeth. "_Alone._"

Sora huffed irritably. Despite his dislike for him at the moment, he decided to cooperate for once. Not without being a smartass, though.

"Forgive my cousin. He can be so rude sometimes… Can we talk later?"

The man nodded with a small smile and turned to go back inside the building. A black-haired girl (who had a ninja star tied to her hip?) met him at the doorway and drug him across the threshold, lecturing about something that sounded suspiciously like "pedophilism". Roxas suppressed a twith at that, but at least he wasn't the only one who thought it was wrong.

"You hate me," he murmured when his attention returned to Sora. "I get that, okay? And I deserve it. If I could move away so as not to make your life miserable, I would. But I _can't_."

"And why not?"

"Sora, my parents are-"

"ROXAS!" Mrs. Kazutaki yelled for the fifth time, still standing beside the car. "You forgot something!"

The blond nearly snarled at being cut off and rushed over to her angrily.

"What?!"

She pulled what looked like a board with a white sheet covering it out of the backseat, followed by another, and fixed her son with a level stare.

"The glass prsion… And your newest painting," she said softly, glancing at Sora. "I think he should see them."

Roxas gaped at his mother. She _hated _Sora. His whole family did. Why the sudden change of heart?

"Just go! Before I change my mind!"

He picked up the paintings gingerly, backing away slowly. When he was sure she wasn't going to snatch them, he broke into an eager run. Maybe Sora would understand if he saw them…

"Here," Roxas panted, holding the canvases out to his cousin. "These are some paintings I've made."

Sora seemed skeptical, but pulled back the sheet to one of the paintings, which happended to be the 'glass prison'. His blue eyes went blank as he stared down at himself, and he immediately noticed the slight reflection of Roxas in the glass. He traced the outline of his cousin with his fingers, his gaze still unwavering. Is this what Roxas thought? That he was trapping Sora?

"I… don't hate you, Roxas."

Sora tugged at the other sheet, his reaction severely different from the first. As soon as he saw the painting, his hand swiped across Roxas's face. So much for that.

"Don't you EVER think like that!" Sora screamed, half angered, half scared, promptly cleaning the small cut he'd made on the other boy's cheek. "I don't want you to _die_, you emo bastard!"

And the next few minutes before the leaders called for them were spent with Sora hugging and fussing over him. Not that he minded. Ever since Hayner left, Roxas had found Sora's presence to be more important than it used to be. Families love you, no matter what. They had just proven that statement true. There were some days that Roxas wished to find a special someone… But Sora would do for now.

* * *

AN: Total crap, that was. Ah, well. Roxas is a little strange, isn't he? My friends call him emotastic... Reviews? 


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